


Their Daughter's Will

by MultiVerSonalityDisorder



Category: Firefly
Genre: Action, F/M, Next Gen, Next Generation, Post-Film, Post-Series, Romance, Their Daughter's Will
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 15:19:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3415613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MultiVerSonalityDisorder/pseuds/MultiVerSonalityDisorder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wash's adventures may have ended, but his daughter's have only begun. As she's come of age, nearing the age of twenty, she's about to really understand just what her parents have gone through first hand. The crew can no longer protect her as she ventures out into the 'Verse. Next Generation fic, Emma-centric. EmmaXOC</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This is Her Start

**Author's Note:**

> Here's an Emma-centric Next Generation fiction. I do not own the universe of Firefly or the characters. This is merely my take on how I perceive the possibility in which Emma had grown into. I do own Skia (Pronounced Sky) Chantity. PLEASE call me out if you think that any of the characters are out of character! Thank you!

It was the year 2538. After the discovery of Miranda and the news spreading through the ‘Verse like wildfire, the Alliance was forced to step down. The people decided that those in the higher level were not trustworthy, thinking of controlling the instincts and natural urges that kept humans living was too great a risk for the citizens that were held under this government. Those in the lower rings of the Alliance government, those who knew very little if anything at all of the Reaver business, were allowed to stay in office long enough to divide the planets into six equal sectors, each voting on one representative, and among the representatives was voted one overseer. It was more like the older days, back before the war, but it still held a bit of the Alliance feel to it. In some parts, the economy grew, and business was booming, for others, they kept to their old business even if it didn’t always make them the money they wished for. Some would even call their line of work piracy.

"Gorram girl," was the harsh huff of air that slipped from Captain Malcolm Reynold’s lips as he scurried down the stairs towards the cargo bay.

"Who?" Jayne inquired, readying one of his lovely friends, shining it up and making sure there wouldn’t be any jams. He, just as Mal, was graying from his scalp to his facial hair. Both men were gaining a bit of weight in their faces, as well as other places, as they reached their golden years. Half a century give or take a few years, and still they were clawing their way up from the ever-present fear of poverty that came every so often with their freelance.

"Our girl, who else?" the captain growled. He paused a floor above and crossed his arms in frustration. "She begged ‘n begged to go out on a run ‘n then she up ‘n disappears."

"Lookin’ for someone, Cap’n?" a young man, fair skinned with short, neatly trimmed dull strawberry-blonde hair stepped into the room. His sharp hazel eyes looked from Jayne to Mal, a smirk on his face as thumbs hooked into the belt loops of his trousers. His lightly toned muscles were shining under the fluorescent light of Serenity, a dog tag hanging around his bare neck, gaining a shine while surrounded by a light patch on his chest. In much of the way, he almost resembled Jayne in his prime years, except his words held a bit more intellect.

Shaking his head, Mal rose his brows, “We have to git goin’ to take care of this gorram job, ‘n she’s out gallivantin’.”

"Oh, you mean, Washburne."

"Look, Chantity," Jayne growled, seeming a little fed up with situation already. Time was money, and so long as they weren’t out there, they were losing both time and money. Jayne was not fond of losing money. "D’ya know where she is, or doncha?"

The young man scoffed, “I don’t keep tabs on her. She ain’t my kid. If you need to ask anyone, ask Sallwin. Or, better yet, use the gorram intercom.”

"No," Malcolm waved his hands. "She knew the time of departure, if she don’t show up, she gets left behind. Those the rules."

"Okay, then. So, just us men, then? Ms. Zoë ain’t comin’?"

"Nah, she said if Emma goes, she goes on her own. We ain’t got the time to wait for Zoë to grab her essentials."

The blonde clapped his hands together, grinning, “All right! Let’s go!”

"You gonna put a shirt on first, or what?" a smooth voice teased from above.

Three pairs of eyes shot up to see a young woman with light brown skin, save for the dark freckles that spread across the bridge of her nose and her cheek bones, with curly dark brown hair with a single highlight on the strands that curved about the right of her face. A dark green headband held back most of her bangs, her curls fanning out like a backwards crown. She crossed her arms with a smirk of victory over her tanned leather vest, arms bare but wrists covered in fingerless gloves.

"Emma!" Malcolm’s hands planted themselves on his hips. "Young lady, we’re runnin’ late! You best have your gear."

"Of course,  _Sh_ _ū_ _shu_ ,” she chuckled, showing off the jacket that was crumpled in her palm and hiding from view while her arms had been crossed. A gun holster on her hip.

"Can we all j’st git getting on then?" Jayne spat.

"Right," Malcolm gestured. "Skia, get a shirt on. Let’s go."

* * *

"You sure you’re gonna be all right without your mama?" Skia inquired as he touted the carrier easily on his own. He was smirking down at Emma who was scowling up at him. He was only a few years older, yet he continued to treat her like a child.

However, Emma didn’t respond to him. She knew he was just trying to cause trouble and the look from Mal meant that he knew that as well. She didn’t even understand why he let Skia join them if he knew he was just gonna be a  _Pi Gu_. So, she turned her attention to Jayne. “Just to be clear,” she started, and he blinked in confusion when he realized she was talking to him, “like I said, I don’t want any special treatment. Pretend I’m my mother. Understand, Jayne?”

The poor mercenary didn’t get a chance to say yay or nay as Malcolm chuckled. He heard those words before, from the other side of her tree. As she got older, it wasn’t hard to see that she was that pilot’s daughter, even as she was insistent on learning his trade. “Emma,” he peeked over his shoulder for a second as they lowered down a hill of sand, the valley below with a single lake with bright greenery, a stark contrast from the surrounding area of dull nothingness, “I’ll say it again, groundwork ain’t nuthin’ like the cockpit. I’m lettin’ you come along so you can see that first hand. Understand?”

"Yes,  _Sh_ _ū_ -uh, Captain Sir.”

"Anyways," Jayne cut in, "we gunna be puttin’ a plan together ‘r what? Not sure Scourie’s all that trustworthy, t’be honest."

"He’s the more honest ones we’ve come by," Malcolm replied. "He hasn’t done us wrong yet, so for now, we keep our arms crossed, ‘n hands away from the trigger. Got that?"

Jayne was silent but Skia and Emma complied with the affirmative. As they arrived at the ring of the lake, they were quick to realize they were either stood up, or just the first ones to show. Hopefully it was the latter.

"This was exactly what I was sayin’," Jayne grumbled. "He ain’t never gonna show."

"Never say never, Jayne," Skia chuckled, placing the carrier down on the dirt. "I’m sure he’ll be poppin’ up shortly. Cap’n was just in such a rush to get here, we got here a little early, ‘s all."

Malcolm shook his head, “No, he’s late. But, he’s never been one for punctuality. Doesn’t hurt to get here on time though. The one time we’re late, he’d be here on time and who’d get the boot end of it? Now, no more complaints. I don’t wanna have him come marchin’ on up to hear you all chatterin’ away like old hens.”

"Aw, Captain Sir, you’re really soundin’ like an old grampa," Emma chuckled, hands on her hips as if ready for action.

Never thought he’d be saying it but, “Well, I never married.” Book wouldn’t mind if he took his old line now would he?

It was then, soon after, that a trio came riding on in on horseback. From atop one of the hills was a lanky man with a top hat, curled mustache of gray and furrowed brows as thick as caterpillars. To his left was a round boy nearing the end of his youth with red curls and the attempt of his own mustache speckled atop his lip. To his right was a young woman, sun-kissed with golden curls down her shoulders, eyes bright green.

"Charles!" Mal threw his arms out in greeting, a wide grin on his lips. "You’ve made it!"

The thin older man stopped his horse as they neared, his laugh seeming more like a cackle as he stepped down, nearly tripping off of his horse before he regained his stride. “Malcolm Reynolds! You sly dog, I thought I’d seen the last of you!”

The two men gave a quick embrace with a pat of the back to the other. The Serenity captain taking a step back, adding a handshake as he looked upwards towards the younger two who slowly joined them on ground level. “Look at that, those yours?” he scoffed. “Look nuthin’ like ya.”

"They’re my brother’s kids. Stupid  _Ta Ma Duh_ got himself into some real trouble. Left me with ‘em.” He gestured to them, “Jack and Padma. Them’s good kids, they listen well.” Charles rose a brow, “Wouldn’t be lookin’ for one more to take with you onto your crew?”

"Not until I get rid of some of them," Mal chuckled, hands on his hips with squinted eyes, smile remaining. "You’ll be the first to know when I do."

"Excellent!" Charles clapped his hands together, rubbing them as his lips upturned devilishly. "Now, onto the goods! Bring ‘em out!"

Chest out in pride, Malcolm gestured to Skia, “Go ahead.”

The young blonde pushed the carrier out to sit at the front of Charles Scourie’s feet. Eyes meeting for just a blip of time, Skia removed the cover to reveal stacks of bound papers, separated by damaged hard covers with printed ink fading off the faces. Charles picked one up, as he opened the front cover, the spine crackled and the pages flapped stiffly. His smile grew unexpectedly, eyes flying upwards towards Mal’s as he slapped the book closed.

"You’ve gone ‘n right outdone yourself this time, Malcolm," his hat slipped a bit to the side as the man’s body visibly trembled with joyous excitement, the laughter rumbling in his chest.

"Knowing you’re a collector of the olden days’ history books, encyclopedias and whatnot, I had to send you a wave," Malcolm slipped his hands into his pockets. "Found them in the cargo of a ship that was left to its own defenses. These books got left behind with some food, but I know where your interests lie."

"Good man!" Charles slapped a hand to the other’s shoulder. "Mighty fine good man! Jack! Git these goods up on Padma’s horse."

"Why Padma’s?" the round-faced youth frowned in a puzzle.

"Boy, when did I say you could ask questions?"

"S-Sorry, sir…"

Charles clicked his tongue as he pat his vest down, reaching into the inner pocket he pulled out a thick envelope. “Your pay, Cap’n,” he stretched his hand out in offering and Malcolm took it happily, immediately placing it in his coat pocket. “You’re not gonna check it?”

"I trust you," the graying brunette nodded. He quickly reached out for one last handshake. "Pleasure doin’ business with ya."

"Pleasure," was the delighted hum just before the two turned away, corralling their groups in opposite directions.

"And, that, kids," Malcolm whispered with a giggle in his voice, either arm on the necks of Emma and Skia, "is how you close a deal.  _That_  is what smooth looks like.”

* * *

"How’d it go?" was the first thing to pop from Zoë’s mouth as the group pulled into the cargo bay. Not much of her changed, saved for the lighter shades that streaked her hair, and the weathered areas around her lips and eyes. She was making her way down the stairs with a smile on her face as the rowdy crew seemed to celebrate.

Jayne hit the intercom button, calling loudly, “We’re all in, River. Git ‘er goin’.”

As Serenity clammed up and started her engine, the crew split apart. Malcolm followed Emma up to her mother while Jayne slipped into the belly of the ship as his own belly was rumbling. “She did well,” Mal called up, as Emma embraced her mother giddily. “Didn’t say a peep, didn’t start nuthin’. She’s a real pro.”

"It wasn’t nuthin’ like the ones Mama always talked about," Emma sighed, but her smile was bright. "Though, I’m just glad I got to go out into the field. I love the helm, but it was such a great change of scenery to see actual deal-goin’s. Thank you,  _Sh_ _ū_ _shu_.”

“ _Mei Wen Ti_.”

"Well, Captain," Zoë hummed as she rubbed her daughter’s shoulder, "Inara is waitin’ for you in her room. Says she’s got somethin’ to show you."

Malcolm’s brows rose in intrigue, but before he could say anything, Skia gave a hoot and clap of his hands, “Way to go, Cap’n!”

"Skia," he growled the young man’s name. He turned to glare down at the cargo bay. "Why don’t you follow Jayne into the mess? Get dinner started."

"Sure," he half-smirked, bobbing his head towards Emma, "if Washburne helps."

"Excuse me?" the young woman cocked her head to the side with an offended scowl.

"If I remember correctly, it’s your turn anyway. Well, Cap’n?"

With a sigh, Malcolm Reynolds looked to Emma, eyes saying it all. “Go on.” She gave her own huff before placing a kiss to her mother’s cheek, followed by one on Malcolm’s, and so she made her way down, ignoring Skia the best she could as he followed her to the galley.

"So, the jobs really have been gettin’ easier, haven’t they?" Zoë inquired rhetorically.

In response, the aged browncoat shrugged, passing his first mate with, “Well, Inara really wants me in her room, don’t she?”

There was a scoff, “It ain’t like how you say it.”

Continuing up the stairs, there was a grin in his voice, “And how is it then?”

"She brought someone back with her."

Immediately, Malcolm swerved around, eyes wide and round, “ _What_?”

**-**


	2. Half a Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skia and Clove are my original characters. I own nothing more.

“I always said you was a monkey, boy.”

There was laughter in the galley as Emma shadowed Skia begrudgingly. The main source was Jayne, who was leaning his back against the face of the counter as the ones he was speaking with were a woman and young man.

Kaylee was sitting at the table, nibbling away at some dried meat-like substance, half-snorting with the commotion. Her hair was up in a messy bun with several streaks of red running through, with dirt, oil, grease, smudges of all sorts decorated her face like war paint. Her jumper was a shade of olive, the top slipped off of her body to expose her arms that shined with sweat, her tube top a dull crimson that settled about her breasts well. Her nose crinkled to the young man who sat opposite, also covered in grime, but a bright smile on his face.

Tanned and in his late teens, the curls that danced about his ears were like graphite, and his dark brown eyes were round on his features, thin with little muscle to his being. His attire mirrored that of his mentor’s. Though, his jumper was more of a rusty color, and while he slipped the material off his torso, he wore nothing else and a small tattoo on the back of his right shoulder was visible; a circle split right down the middle vertically and a single dot in the middle of either half.

“What’s goin’ on?” Skia murmured, brows rising inquisitively from the commotion.

“Oh, Skia! Emma!” Kaylee’s smile broadened. “Welcome back! I heard it went well.”

“It did,” the young Washburne bobbed her head in acknowledgement before her eyes fell to the boy, waving delightedly. “Hey, Clove.”

At first, the young man didn’t seem to register her greeting, before he returned the gesture, attempting a crooked smile, “Hey, E-Emma.” His eyes fell to Skia who was walking past Jayne with an arrogant air about him, turning behind the counter to enter what was more or less their kitchen. “Skia.”

The older male made no inclination of reciprocating the greeting. Instead, he placed his hands atop the counter, smirking, “You all look like you’re having a blast in ‘ere.”

“Watch that tone, Chantity,” Jayne jabbed a stern finger, displaying an equally stern brow, in the blonde’s direction.

“Oh, lay off ‘im, Jayne,” Kaylee was still giggling. “Me ‘n Clove were jus’ tellin’ Jayne ‘bout what we was up to while you all were gone. I left Clove alone for jus’ a minute, I swear, ‘n I come back to ‘im tryin’ to fix up some bolts on the ol’ turner, hangin’ upside with ‘is feet locked up in the pipes!” She burst out in another fit, nearly collapsing into her snack.

Jayne even found himself chuckling once more as Clove defended himself with a modest smile, “It was the best way I could reach it! I promise! I wasn’t tryin’ t’fool ‘round!”

“Sounds great,” Skia interjected rather apathetically as he clapped his hands. He looked to Emma, who had been standing silently with a few giggles of her own, arms crossed beneath her breasts. “Washburne! Let’s get the food goin’!”

\- 


	3. Entering Retirement

Malcolm heard Inara’s voice as he approached her pod. He smiled, pausing outside and just relishing in her voice. It always filled him with something…indescribable. Her tone, the softness in her words were like the softness of her touch on his hard body. When she spoke, it was almost like he could feel the syllables forming on her lips.

He cleared his throat, knocking as he stepped in. Inara looked up from her bed, her face still bright even as she was starting her retirement as a companion. However, as Zoë mentioned previously, she was not alone. In a chair across from her sat a young man. His skin a light shade of brown, hair dark and kept short save for a braid that dangled against his right temple.

The stranger’s hazel eyes were somewhat small upon the carved features of his face. A handsome young man who was sitting shirtless with a yard of translucent orange silk wrapped around his waist and arms. Malcolm looked to Inara who simply smiled at him as she stood.

“Mal,” she extended her arm and the captain took her hand. He kissed her knuckles before looking to their guest. Inara turned her gaze to the young man and gestured for him to stand and his height perhaps rivaled Jayne’s. “This is Cecel Serenen. My student.”

“Student?” Mal’s brows shot up. “Student.” He looked to Cecel. “You mean…you brought a male whore to my ship?”

“Mal,” Inara frowned, but Cecel stepped up.

“I’m here to learn from one of the best companions of the previous generation,” he stated with an unexpectedly deep voice. It was smooth and Mal wasn’t sure he liked it. “It’s an honor to be in her presence and to be able to learn from her before she completely retires. I will not embarrass her or this ship. You have my word, sir.” He gave a small bow, but Mal still wasn’t sure of the situation before him.

The captain was stiff even as he looked back to Inara, “So, where do you plan on keeping him? Any spare rooms we have left are left open for customers looking for a ride of the none-fleshy nature.”

“He will stay here,” she gestured to her room.

Malcolm looked further perplexed by this statement, “You wanna say that again?”

The woman sighed. She looked to her protégé, “Cecel, would you mind stepping out for a moment? The Captain and I need to exchange a few words.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded and slipped out without inquiry.

“Mal,” Inara’s tone was agitated, “why would you do that? You know how I feel about you looking down on companions. I thought we were past this.”

“We were,” Malcolm shoved his hands in his pockets, “but then you brought that boy on my ship.”

“Mal, are you going to listen to me before you start jumping to any wild conclusions?”

The man fell silent for a moment. His eyes darted about the room, avoiding her until finally he could muster the courage to meet her gaze, “Fine.”

“As I said, Cecel will be staying here. Alone. I won’t be needing this space since I’ll be retiring. I’ll keep renting it so he can focus on his studies and his work.”

“And, where might you be goin’? Ya ain’t leavin’.”

“No, I’m not,” Inara smiled. “I’ll be moving into your room.”

Mal paused. His brain working to make sense of what she said. “Yer whatnow?”

“Haven’t you been asking me to move in with you for the past year and a half?” she teased, hands on her hips.

“I…well, yeah…”

“You aren’t taking it back now that I’ve decided to take you up on that offer, are you?”

“No,” Mal blurted. “No, ‘course not. I just…I don’t know what to say, Inara.”

“Well,” she approached him, stepping close and taking his hand in both of hers from his pocket. Her fingers traced his rough knuckles as her eyes examined the aging of his hands, “I figured I’d surprise you.” Her eyes flickered up to meet his gaze, “You like it, don’t you?”

Malcolm sighed. He gently pulled his hand from hers before wrapping his arms around her. He held her close, lips pressing a kiss into her dark hair, “I don’t got the words, but…I do. I like it.” He paused, then added, “Thank you.”

* * *

By the time Zoë made her way down to the mess, Emma was in the middle of cooking. She noticed not everyone had made it down yet, but she didn’t say anything. Kaylee noticed her and smiled, waving her over, “So, I hear Cap’n is up with ‘nara. Good news?”

Zoë chuckled, sitting down across from the younger woman, “I suppose you could say that. It seems Inara took on a protégé.”

“A what?” Skia asked as he chopped up some spices to give their usually bland food flavor.

“A student,” Jayne hummed, scratching the beard on his chin as he watched Emma and Skia work from the counter. “’nara is plannin’ on retirin’.”

“So, we got ourselves a companion-in-training, then?” Kaylee inquired further with intrigue.

Clove swallowed some of his drink nervously as Skia chuckled, “She’s probably beautiful.”

Emma made a face and noise of disgust as she shoved at the vulgar young man. She didn’t say anything further as he simply laughed once more.

“Actually,” Zoë had a smirk on her lips, “her student is a young man.”

Jayne and Skia froze, Clove placed his cup down and quirked a brow while Kaylee bubbled with excitement.

“How refreshin’!”

**-TBC**


End file.
